


A Blurred Spectrum of Colours || Dream SMP AU

by SylverRyn



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), The Darkest Minds Series - Alexandra Bracken, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, Brutality, Dystopia, Gen, Government, Government Agencies, Government Experimentation, Imprisonment, Mutant Powers, No Romance, No Smut, On the Run, Rehabilitation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29378217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylverRyn/pseuds/SylverRyn
Summary: *ON A 2-3 WEEKS HIATUS*Based on the world of The Darkest Minds, an MCYT/Dream SMP auIn a dark future, a fatal disease known as Idiopathic Adolescent Acute Neurodegeneration (IAAN) kills nearly 98% of all children in the United States. The ones fortunate enough to survive this illness developed unusual abilities, and were dubbed the Psi Generation.Psi Children are divided into 5 categories. Greens, Blues, Yellows, Reds and Oranges. With Greens being the safest, and Oranges being the most dangerous, to be exterminated on sight.Psi children were declared a threat by the government, and a danger to humankind. The few that managed to escape capture remain hunted down in the outside world. Though most had been ripped away from their families, and detained in large prison-like camps scattered across the country, for "rehabilitation". We had no happiness, no freedom, no future. No way out of this hell.We are the generation that had been stripped of the childhood we deserved. We had spent a bulk of our lives either imprisoned, or hunted. We were oppressed, mistreated and even killed, by the very people who were supposed to protect us.Now, 6 years later, we want to fight back.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 70





	1. Prologue – 1 || At Least We Have Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on The Darkest Minds universe, but it won’t follow exactly how the original world works. Some names and places will be the same though. For the sake of the story, all characters with Psi powers are 18 and below unless stated otherwise.
> 
> Contains zero smut, zero romantic relationships. All relationships in this book are PLATONIC, and I refuse to write them as otherwise. Since most of the Psi characters are underaged, it would be wrong to write them into romantic relationships anyways. Plus, I’m not really interested in writing that sort of thing.
> 
> //Trigger Warning//
> 
> This will be the ONLY Trigger Warning I will be giving for the whole book. I won’t be putting them at the top of each chapter, as I feel that such notes give slight spoilers for what’s to come next.
> 
> Since this is set in a dystopian world, there will be violence, blood, death, slight gore, and basically anything else you can imagine in a dark apocalyptic-ish world. I won’t go too overboard with describing gore, but there will be some (cus of fight scenes and stuff). There will be mild swearing as well on occasions, won’t go overboard as well.
> 
> Basically, the most dark this book could get is similar to the darkest points in the Hunger Games book series. So if you are uncomfortable with the Hunger Games, I suggest you be wary of continuing on :)

**_| Tommy’s POV |_ **

The first time I had ever been exposed to the IAAN disease (Idiopathic Adolescent Acute Neurodegeneration) was during Math period in my 4th grade elementary class. Before that incident, none of the children in my school had ever even heard of such a sickness, or the threat that it posed to our future. But I’m sure that by then, at least hundreds or even thousands of kids across the country had already fallen victim to the disease. Either we were all just dumb little shits who were astonishingly slow at realising that the world wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, or the adults were too good at hiding the scary reality from our innocent childish minds.

I remember every detail of what happened during class that day clearly. The girl in question stood at the front of the class, solving a question the teacher had challenged her on the whiteboard. Because my seat had been in the front row, I had a clear view of her. Tubbo, my best & childhood friend, sat beside me. I remember pointing out to him about how he had solved a particular question completely wrong, and bragging about how much better at math I was than him. Such simpler times it was back then.

Suddenly, the girl halted in her writing. Her hand remained raised, tip of the marker touching the board, but not continuing in their strokes. Everyone stared at her, confused, myself included. It was only after a while did I realise that her hand was trembling like a leaf, as if it was struggling to support the marker’s weight. 

All of a sudden, her hand jerked and she released her grasp. I didn’t believe my eyes at first, but I swear, I _swear_ that the marker didn’t fall when she let go. It was _floating_ , quivering in midair, with nothing but an invisible force supporting it. It only remained there for a quick while, brief enough that I was probably the only one who had noticed, before it fell to the ground like any normal marker would. A few moments later, the girl collapsed together with it, hitting the floor with a thud.

The whole class sat frozen in place, silent. _She’s probably fainted_

The teacher walked over from the back of the class, and pressed her ear against the girl’s chest to listen for a heartbeat. After a few seconds, seeing the colour drain from our teacher’s face was enough for everything to erupt into chaos. Some kids started screaming, hollering, crying until they couldn’t breath. The teacher, not even bothering to attempt calming the class down, began tapping on her phone frantically with trembling fingers. The slightly braver kids went over to the girl’s body to check for themselves, only to stare in shock once they'd confirmed to themselves that she was indeed dead.

Tubbo and I both just sat there rooted in place, too shocked to even scream. Eventually, I felt drops of warm tears begin to slide down my cheeks. My teeth were clenched tight together. I was never close to the girl, never even spoken more than a few words to her. But even 10-year-old-me knew the permanence of death. This girl will never see the sun, never smile, never eat, never dream... ever again. Physical things when lost, are replaceable. But a human life when lost… there’s an empty gap left behind that will never be filled. Her family had never even gotten to say goodbye.

While I sat there weeping, Tubbo didn’t utter a sound, or even shed a single tear. He just stayed there, staring. But in the midst of it all, I felt him reach out to grasp my hand. I opened my palm and held onto his. 

And when people came to carry the girl’s body away, his grip tightened.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Things only went downhill from there. Everything happened so quickly it all seemed like a blur. In less than a month, every child & adult in town knew what the IAAN was. By then, half of my class was already dead.

The government issued a nationwide lockdown on all elementary & middle schools across the country. All kids were to be quarantined in their homes until further notice, and nearby hospitals were to be contacted immediately should any child in the household begin to display symptoms of IAAN.

Both of Tubbo’s parents were doctors, and had a duty to remain at the hospital in the midst of this crisis. Neither of us had siblings, and our families were friends, so he lived at my house during this time period.   


We knew that things were bad. My parents had us on a strict vitamin regimen, and almost never let us out of their sight. Tubbo slept on a spare mattress we had on the floor of my room. It wasn’t all bad at first. We would spend the nights trying to lighten the mood, telling each other stories until we fell asleep.

Kids were dying left and right, dropping like flies, all around our age. Things turned from bad to terrifying very fast. In a few weeks, we were the only 2 kids left alive in our neighbourhood. Our nights were now spent in fear of what tomorrow would bring. 

And in the morning, the first thing we would do was to make sure that other hadn’t died in his sleep.

A few days later, the president made a formal address to the nation. It was evening time. My parents, Tubbo and I watched it airing live on the television in the living room.

_"My fellow Americans,”_ President Gray began. " _Today we are facing a devastating crisis. One that threatens both the lives of our children, as well as the future of our great nation. To the families who have experienced loss, I give my deepest condolences. To the families whose children are fortunate enough to remain alive & well, I regret to inform you that your children are no longer the same.”_

_ “Hence, we at Washington DC offer you a program, one that is not only for the benefit of our nation, but also for the well-being of your children. However, in order for this program to be a success, it is recommended that you contact our Psi Special Forces department for the collection of your children into nearby rehabilitation camps. More information can be found on our official website.” _

Rehabilitation. What does that mean?

At that point, Mom ordered both of us back into our room. Tubbo tugged on my arm, I followed reluctantly. We shut the door behind us.

Not long after, sounds of an argument-turned-shouting-match could be heard coming from the living room. 

“What do you think is going on out there?” I asked, trying to listen to their conversation by pressing an ear against the door. All I heard was muffled yelling.

“They’re going to send us away, y’know.” Tubbo said bluntly. He looked like he was staring blankly out of the window, as if in a trance.

I whipped my head around. “What? You can’t possibly-”

“Face it, Tommy. Why else would they be arguing out there?” Said Tubbo, turning to face me. “Your parents are going to get rid of us. Let the Psi-officer-people take us away to who-knows-where. For _rehabilitation_. I don’t know what that is but it doesn’t sound good.”

“Why would my parents even want us gone? They love me… and they care about you too!”

“Well, the almighty president says that ‘we are no longer the same’, whatever that means. And adults do love their governments. If the authorities say that sending us away is for _everyone’s_ good, why wouldn’t your parents listen?”

I shook my head sharply, “No. You’re wrong. My parents will take care of us… we’re going to be fine.”

Tubbo shrugged, “Suite yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He returned to staring into blank space, occupied with his own thoughts.

I sat down onto the floor with my legs crossed, heart pounding hard, thoughts racing in my mind. No, Tubbo was wrong. My parents loved me, they would never let me go. We were fine. We were safe .

No more than a week later, lunch was interrupted by the sounds of fists pounding against the front door. Mom let them in. Very quickly, Tubbo and I were surrounded by half a dozen soldiers in a black uniform, all with the symbol 𝚿 on their right sleeve, marking them as Psi Special Forces (PSF) officers. They grasped on our shoulders roughly, as began leading us out of the house. I hollered and squirmed, screaming for help. But my parents just stood there, unmoving. The look on their faces wasn’t one of guilt or pain, but of slight sadness. Eventually, I stopped struggling, and let them drag us away from my home. Feelings of betrayal prevented me from even shedding a tear.

Tubbo was right.

**[ _6 April 2025, The United States, Virginia_ ]**

* * *

The bus jerked upwards as it drove over a particularly rocky patch of land, jolting me awake from my hazy half-sleep state. The weather was cold that day. The windows of the bus didn't close, and being the closest to the window, freezing wind was constantly slamming into my face, carrying along bits of dirt and dust with it. My eyes were watering so badly that I could barely see. Normally, I would shield my face from it all. But now, with my wrists tied behind my back, all I could do was twist my body away such that my back was facing the open air. We were far from any sort of civilisation. If I could see properly, outside was probably miles upon miles of open grass fields.

Tubbo as always, was right by my side. He sat in the seat next to mine, fast asleep. His head had lolled to one side and now rested on my shoulder. Shivering, I snuggled closer towards my friend, trying to soak up as much body heat as possible. For some reason, his skin felt particularly warm that day.

After Tubbo and I were picked up from my house the day before, we were brought to some sort of warehouse located on the outskirts of town, and stayed there overnight. There were at least 50 other kids there, all pale, frightened and hungry. I seemed to recognise some of them, possibly from my town or from the town next one over. The PSFs on guard sat us down on the dirty cement floor. We weren’t allowed to sleep, no food was given out for us to eat. I grasped onto Tubbo the entire time we were there.

The next morning, the PSFs loaded us all onto a single yellow bus, for a 5 hour long drive to Thurmond. Or so I overheard from a conversation between 2 PSFs. The bus was smaller than a regular school bus. With all of us packed in there, there was barely enough room to breath.

Apart from the occasional sounds from the soldiers’ radio or the sniffle of a child, the bus was completely silent. Although no one had specifically ordered us to remain silent, most were either too tired or too hungry to speak anyway. 

Not gonna lie, hunger was starting to make my head go all spin-ey. It was hard to think straight, harder to stay still. But if I tried to stand up, I would probably immediately be shoved back down by a PSF. I stretched my legs out in front of me to prevent them from going numb. My hands were starting to lose feeling after being bound in the same position for so long, the cold was not helping. The plastic band that was tightened around my wrist only dug painfully into my skin when I tried to stretch them apart.

The bus took a sharp turn off the main road onto a narrower dirt one. The change in frequency of vibrations awoke those who had been exhausted enough to fall asleep, including Tubbo, who stirred awake beside me. His eyes widened momentarily, as he swivelled around to see what was happening, only to slacken and sink back into his seat once he remembered where we were.

As we neared our destination, The PSFs also seemed to grow more alert. They stood up straighter, watching us with sharper eyes. Their attention snapped to what lay ahead.

A large metal-wired fence came into view, towering over us at at least 12 feet in height. As we approached the gate, I noticed that a dozen more PSFs in black uniform were present right below the windows, escorting the bus in a brisk jog. The giant gates slowly swung open, the PSFs at the gate’s control booth saluted to our driver as he drove the bus through the entrance and into the compound.

We lurched to a stop. The bus was deathly quiet, with every kid too terrified to move. 

A black-uniformed man rapped against the bus door, which was swiftly opened by the driver. I sucked in a breath as the PSF stepped into the bus. He was large in size, with a nasty scowl plastered onto his face. “You will stand up and exit the bus in an orderly fashion.” He yelled. “Once on the ground, you will line up in a single-file to be brought to the infirmary for testing. You will remain silent. You will not try to escape. You will do as you are told. Failure to obey instructions will result in punishment.”

“Screw you!” A girl’s voice screamed from the back of the bus. 

We all turned backwards at once to see who the voice had belonged to. She looked around my age, 10 to 11 years old I think. Her head was raised, chin tilted upwards in spite. The PSF’s harsh words had sparked a rebellion in her. My jaw dropped at her bravery. Her dumb, meaningless bravery.

A PSF close to the girl brought down the butt of his rifle hard onto her mouth. The girl let out a shriek of pain & surprise as he struck her again. Her blond hair flew around wildly as she tried to turn her body away to avoid the assaults. With her hands tied behind her, there was no way to counter the attacks. She just had to sit there and take it. When the PSF finally stopped, there was blood dripping out from her mouth and nose. But even then, when the girl looked up, the corner of her mouth was tilted into a smirk. Her eyes still shone fiercely with life & defiance.

They began moving kids off the bus one by one. I exited first, with Tubbo following right behind me. My feet came into contact with the wet ground, which consisted of a thick, slime-like top layer of mud. Another PSF guided both of us to 4 other boys around our age. Obeying orders, we fell in line.

There were at least 20 PSFs on the ground, swarming around our neat lines. Both my feet had been swallowed by the mud. I was trembling. Whether it be in fear, or because of the cold, I was not sure. I looked over to Tubbo, though he seemed calm at first, I noticed that his eyes were widened in terror, his fists were tightly clenched behind his back.

The blond, bloodied-face girl was the last one to step off the bus. The same PSF who had hit her escorted her out, with a hand tightly clamped onto her arm. As she was being led towards the back of a line, her head suddenly jerked upwards. I watched as she swiftly turned to face the PSF gripping on to her. Her lips moved slightly as she whispered something into the PSF’s ear. Her face, although bruised & smeared with red, wore a mask of calm. 

The PSF gave a curt nod before releasing her grip on the girl. He reached to take his gun out of its holster. And without a word, or even a moment’s hesitation, he pointed it at his head, and pulled the trigger.

Panic erupted among the kids and PSFs alike. I screamed, the sound that came out of my mouth was gritty and hoarse due to dehydration. Even Tubbo, the one who always kept his cool, had lost it. He was screaming as well. Dark red patches of the dead PSF’s blood were splattered across the ground.

Some kids around us dropped into a dead faint. Others took advantage of the situation and tried to make a run for it, only to be stopped by lines of PSFs who seemingly appeared out of thin air. Though most, like the 2 of us, just stood there, rooted to the ground, screaming.

The blond girl just stood over the body of the dead PSF, smiling, completely unfazed by the chaos that she had caused around her. The remaining PSFs around her sprung into action.

“Orange!” I heard one of them shout out. “We’ve got an Orange! Standard protocol!”

They advanced towards her, with 3 of them tackling her at the same time. She had put up a good fight. She screamed and kicked and bit at them. But in the end, she still found herself pinned to the ground. One of the PSFs removed his rifle from its holster. He pointed it at the girl’s head, took aim, and fired.

Bang. The blond girl grew limp. An uneasy silence settled once again.

As the PSFs got to work rounding the kids back up, I stared at the body of the dead girl with dread running down my spine. _How had she gotten that PSF to kill himself? What...was she? What was an "Orange"?_

_ Were we all like her? _

I felt a light tap on my shoulder, I jumped slightly before turning around, and relaxed when I realised that it was just Tubbo. He gave me a slight nod. The trembling of his body betrayed the look of confidence in his eyes.

With my heart pounding hard against my chest, I returned his gesture. We weren’t alone, we had each other. And for now, that was all we needed.

  
  
**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**  


The PSFs marched our lines towards the infirmary for testing. On our journey through the camp, we passed by rows and rows of wooden cabins. Other kids not from our group were also present, walking in lines much like ours. They all wore the same white uniform, with different colour X-shaped marks on their backs. I saw 3 colours in total. Green, Blue and Yellow. No Oranges though.

We were hurried into a medium-sized, two-story building with a sign that read “Infirmary” at the front. From the entrance, we entered into a single large room that was washed in an unnatural brightness. The smell of rubbing alcohol & fake lemon filled my nose. 

Finally, they cut the plastic bindings that tied our hands, and ordered us to line up against the wall at the back. From here, I had a clear view of the room. In one of the 4 corners, there was a staircase which led upwards to the 2nd floor. In the center of the room, there was a row of about 10 reclined chairs, kind of like the ones you would see in a dentist’s office. They were spaced about 4 feet away from one another, and each had a strange, halo-shaped machine hanging over them. A small table with a laptop was also placed beside each chair, with an adult dressed in white sitting behind them.

“Alright everyone. Listen up!” My attention was brought to a man standing between us and the row of chairs. He had slightly dark-coloured skin, and wore a white lab coat. The expression on his face although serious, was not one of disdain or hostility. “You may address me as Dr Ponk, and I am the head doctor at this camp, Thurmond, your new home for the foreseeable future.”

“I’m sure many of you are very confused, so I have taken upon the liberty to explain a little about the next step to your rehabilitation.” Dr Ponk walked up towards the side of the room.

There was a poster pasted on the left wall, the picture on it looked kinda like those food pyramids they used to show us in school. It was a large triangle separated into 5 sections by horizontal lines, such that the bottom layer was wider & larger than the top. Each layer was coloured differently. Green, Blue, Yellow, Red, & Orange, in order of bottom to top,

“You aren’t sick, in fact, you’ve survived the sickness. But you aren’t the same, and until you return back to normal, you won’t be going home.” Dr Ponk continued, as he gestured to the colour pyramid.

“Each of you will be assigned to a colour corresponding to your condition. From the highest to lowest percentage, Greens are those who have incredibly enhanced intelligence. Blues have telekinetic abilities. Yellows have electrokinesis, they will be required to wear rubber gloves during their stay here” He paused, before moving to trace the bolded line separating Yellow and Red.

“Beyond this line, are the most dangerous. Reds, those who can control fire, and Oranges, those who can control minds. We have a few Reds in Thurmond currently, but they are kept under high security in a separate block, separated from the rest of you. As for Oranges, well, you probably won’t ever encounter them.” 

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Dr Ponk must have sensed this, because he quickly put on a smile that looked forced. “But, Reds & Oranges are incredibly rare. There have only ever been less that 50 recorded Reds, and less that 10 recorded Oranges. I’m sure that you all have nothing to worry about.”

With that, PSFs began pushing and pulling kids away from the wall and towards an assigned doctor and chair. The halo-like machine (I heard one of the doctors call it a CT scanner?) would shine a laser-light onto their forehead, and the laptop would subsequently show what their colour was. After receiving their colour, they would be given the standard white uniform, with their assigned coloured X mark on the back of the shirt, and directed by PSFs to stand in lines according to sex, and colour.

On & on the cycle went. Green. Yellow. Green. Blue. Blue. Green

Never Red. Never Orange.

I hoped it stayed that way.

Finally, they called for me. Slowly, I lifted my back off the wall and walked towards the empty chair ahead.

_ Not Red. Not Orange _

“Name?” The lady at the table asked in a bored tone.

“Tommy Davis” I answered. The lady swiftly typed something into her laptop before gesturing for me to take a seat. I complied, and leaned back against the chair. The “halo” circled my head, and a red laser-light focused onto the centre of my forehead.

_ Anything but Red or Orange. Anything but Red or Orange. _

A soft “ding” sound could be heard from the laptop. I leaned over to take a look, and let out a sigh of relief. Blue. I was Blue.

The lady picked up a blue spray paint and drew a large blue X onto the back of the white uniform shirt before handing it to me. It was only when I joined the line consisting of the Blue boys did I remember to start breathing. _I’m Blue. I’m one of the safe ones. I’m fine._

They called for Tubbo. 

My eyes never left his figure as he made his way to the empty station I had just been at. The lady at the table began repeating the same process that she had done with me. 

_Name?_ She asked

_Tubbo Wilson_. I heard his faint reply

She nodded. He took a seat onto the chair. 

_ Blue, please let Tubbo be Blue. _

The “halo” began to circle his head. The red laser-light dot appeared on his forehead.

_ I don’t want to be alone. Please be Blue. Blue. BLUE _

A light “ding” sound rang. The lady’s face paled, and my throat tightened.

The colour of blood filled the screen.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

My mouth gaped open into a silent scream as I leapt forwards towards Tubbo’s direction. However, I haven’t even taken more than a few steps forwards when I felt myself being pulled backwards. I grunted in confusion and frustration. What?

_Blues have telekinetic abilities._ A voice at the back of my mind reminded me.

Turning to look over my shoulder, I saw a boy from my line, slightly older than me. Having yet changed into the uniform, he wore a yellow sweater with a red beanie. His hand was outstretched towards me, fingers held open in a grasp-like position.

_“Let me go!”_ I hissed at him quietly, struggling to overcome the invisible force.

He shook his head firmly. _“Nothing you do will be able to help, you’ll only end up making things worse for him.”_

“ _He’s my best friend! I can’t just sit back and let him die!”_ From the corner of my eye, I saw that a handful of PSFs were already advancing towards him. My movements against the Blue boy’s telekinesis grew more frantic.

If they were so easily ready to kill every single Orange, what was stopping them from doing the same to the Reds?

I looked up in the midst of my squirming to see Tubbo staring right at me. Our eyes met. He smiled, and gave the slightest shake of his head. 

What!? He can’t be serious.

But the look in his eyes wasn’t one of fear, it was one of sadness, and of acceptance. His mind was made up. I could feel my eyes beginning to brim with tears. No... no this can’t be it.

Tubbo had always been the stronger one between the two of us, the realist. Even now, I can almost hear his voice in my head. As if he was standing right here, talking to me. _Stop trying, you can't win, you’re just going to hurt yourself. It’s okay, I’ll be fine. Everything’s going to be alright._

My limbs went slack as I stopped struggling against the invisible force, and let the boy pull me back into my place in line. Tubbo’s right, the Blue boy’s right. I was weak. Nothing I do will help anyone.

The PSFs were right next to him now. He didn’t resist when they forced his arms behind his back once again and bound them with metal cuffs instead of plastic ones. Nor did he flinch when a doctor brought out a syringe and stuck the needle into the base of his neck. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his body went limp. A smile still lingered on his lips.

Tears began pouring down my face. My throat tightened and gasping sounds escaped from my mouth as I wept. The Blue boy hesitantly opened his arms for a hug, but quickly wrapped them around me when I extended mine. 

It was only then did I realise who this boy was. He used to attend my elementary school. He's 2 years older than me. Wilbur? His name was?

So there I stood, bawling my eyes out in Wilbur’s comforting embrace, as the PSFs carried my best friend away to who-knows-where. 

Tubbo had so willingly accepted his fate... for me, for my sake. And now, I don’t even know if I'll ever see him again.


	2. Prologue – 2 || We Are Not Weak

**4 Years Later …** **[** **_23 October 2029, The United States, West Virginia_ ** **]**

* * *

**_| Dreams’s POV |_ **

It’s funny how you only truly appreciate something once you’ve lost it.

The chatter of the classroom on a school day. The bustling crowds of shopping malls on weekends. Warm family dinners together around the table. My younger sister’s cocky laughter… All taken for granted. All gone.

Sitting on the window seat, I set out a sigh and rested my head against the cool glass, staring out into the barren world outside. Rows of double-storied houses much like mine enveloped the streets which stretched into the distance. There was a time, when each and every one of those houses lived a family, some even with children like myself. But now, they all stood cold and empty. It’s a ghost town here, and it’s been this way for the past 3 years.

When I was 13, about a year after surviving children started manifesting Psi abilities, the government grew more and more alarmed by the fact that there were still a bunch of Psi kids roaming free outside of the camps, due to their parents being unwilling to hand their children over. After a while, the PSFs began abducting kids, taking them into custody without their parents’ permission. This sparked anger among the population, and along with the country’s crashing economy, riots broke out on the streets. Eventually, more and more people began rioting and breaking whatever laws we have left just to get food onto the table.

With the economy tanked, the country couldn’t pay off its national debt, it couldn’t pay money to the states, it couldn’t fund companies or its employees. Many of the smaller towns and states didn’t survive the economic crash. A majority of the people who lived in Virginia lost their jobs when companies failed, and they lost their homes because they could no longer pay for them. Now, almost the whole of Virginia’s original population have all migrated inwards and into bigger cities like DC, looking for jobs. All that there’s left here is deserted and broken down malls and stores, empty houses, and desolate roads with abandoned cars littered around here and there.

I was lucky. I was one of the few, if not the only one from what I know, to evade being taken into one of those camps. My dad used to be a soldier in the military. When this whole Psi situation popped up, My dad, along with a bunch of military soldiers, were drafted into the PSF department against their will. 

Well long story short, after my Mom died in one of those riots that broke out, and my sister died at a hospital to IAAN (alone, with none of us beside her), Dad grew really protective of me. That along with the knowledge he had of how Psi kids were **really** being treated in the camps, he knew that he couldn’t let the government get their hands on me. So he made a report that I had succumbed to IAAN as well. Nothing suspicious there, loads of kids had already died. So as far as the government is concerned, I was dead. 

At first, I had to hide in the basement of our house. We had a hatch in the corner of the kitchen that could open up into a small underground room. We kept it hidden under a carpet. This was around 3-4 yrs ago, when inspection checks for any left-over kids by passing PSF troops were frequent. 

Now, with everyone gone, I could hang out around my house. Doors closed, windows closed, lights off (not like there was any power), footsteps light when walking. Keep as quiet as possible, as if I wasn’t even there.

Every so often, Dad would come visit, pretending to be on a solo inspection route to not raise suspicion among his superiors. Due to his position as a PSF, he could only come at most twice a month. Still, he tried. He always brought me food to last at least for the next 2 weeks. Sometimes, he would bring gifts, maybe a book or some writing materials to help pass the time. 

He always kept me updated on the state of the outside world. He told me of the horrors that occured within the camps. Of the different types of Psi kids, Green, Blue, Yellow, Red & Orange. He reminded me to **never** leave the house, that there were adults out there who were not as kind as him, who would do anything to capture, or kill, kids like me. But his visits were brief, he couldn’t stay for long. Most of the time, it was just me.

So I learnt how to survive, how to take care of myself. I taught myself how to prepare the food Dad brought me in the quietest, most efficient way possible. I taught myself how to turn rainwater into something drinkable, so that I wouldn’t go thirsty. I discovered ways to entertain myself. Sometimes I would practice my powers, though that was difficult without another person to practice _on_. Sometimes Dad would let me do it to him when he visited, I don’t think he really liked it though.

I was lonely, but I was safe. And frankly, that was much more than most other kids got.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

From the corner of my eye, I spotted a flicker of movement coming from behind one of the trees in the distance. Instinctively, I ducked under the window, hiding from view. Sometimes, real patrols of PSFs, who were not my dad, _would_ pass by this neighbourhood. Occasionally, there would even be Skip Tracers who’d wander through. They were bounty hunters who made a living off capturing runaway Psi kids. So this unknown movement was although not out of the ordinary, it was still something to be wary of. I just needed to keep quiet and stay low until the threat passed.

Out of curiosity, I allowed myself a peek along the edge of the window. But what I saw wasn’t a PSF patrol, or a group of Skip Tracers, or even my dad coming for a visit. My jaw dropped. Out there, coming hobbling down the side of the road, were 2 boys dressed in white, both around my age.

**Never** in the 3 years I’ve been in hiding, have I seen another kid my age. Let alone another kid walking around in the open like that. They both had the standard camp uniform on (Dad had shown me what they looked like once), one with a Green X mark spray-painted on his back, and the other with a Yellow one. The Green boy had dark brown hair, with a white-framed pair of goggles resting on his forehead. The Yellow boy’s arm was draped over the Green’s shoulders, he had jet-black hair with a bandana tied around his head. He also wore a pair of black rubber gloves on his hands. 

The Yellow seemed to be limping heavily, leaning onto the Green for support. I squinted, taking a closer look, I realised that the left side of the Yellow’s pants was soaked red with blood. He was injured, struggling to even stand. 

Thoughts were racing through my head, colliding into one another until I couldn’t even figure out what was what. _Who were they? Did they just come from a camp? Did they escape? How? What should I do?_

Every second they spent out there in the open was a second in danger of being spotted and pursued. Part of me wanted to shout at them, _"_ _What are you doing!? Get into a house! Hide!”_ But I knew that that would just jeopardise both me and them.

To make matters worse for them, one was bleeding out. From the looks of it, the Yellow had already lost so much blood. And the Green was struggling to hold up both his own weight, let alone the weight of his friend. They both looked so exhausted.

_Never reveal yourself to anyone._ My dad’s voice rang through my head. I knew the dangers. I knew the risks. But… I couldn’t just sit there and watch them struggle. They needed help.

My body started moving before I even realised I had made up my mind. With light footsteps, I raced out of my room and down the stairs, careful to avoid the steps which creaked. The first floor was dark, with the curtains down here drawn shut. I crept over to the door and unlocked it. Then I stayed put, listening out for them. The sounds of footsteps gradually grew louder and louder. When I was certain that they were right outside, I turned the knob and threw the door open. Sunlight that stung my eyes flooded into the living room.

The 2 boys jumped as their eyes darted towards me, their muscles tensed up, only to slightly relax when they realised that I was just another kid. With my eyebrows creased, I waved for them to come over, inviting them in. “George, should we…” I heard the Yellow whisper to the Green . The Green, George, replied with something I couldn’t hear. 

Frowning, my gestures grew more frantic. I wasn’t used to being so exposed outside like this, it made my skin prickle uncomfortably. My eyes were darting around, as if a PSF would come out of nowhere and shoot us down. I- _We_ needed to hide, now. It wasn’t safe out here. My pleading eyes met theirs, begging them to trust me.

Eventually, thankfully, the two staggered towards me. I reached out to help them into the house, before locking the door shut behind us. The Yellow boy’s legs gave way and he collapsed onto the floor.

George bent down with his hands on his knees, “Hey-hey… You okay dude?” He panted.

“Y-yeah...Don’t worry about it… I just-just need a moment…” The Yellow said, gasping for breath as he tried to push himself off the ground.

“Hey, do you need help?” I asked, leaning forwards. George immediately stepped between me and the Yellow, shielding his friend. His eyes shone with suspicion, and his body was tensed, as if anticipating a fight. I took a step back, hands up in surrender. “Woah, dude. Chill, I’m only trying to help.”

“Who are you? What do you want?” George asked. I was a little taken aback by the aggression in his voice. These two looked like they’ve been through a lot, so I guess some distrust is a given.

I cleared my throat ,“Uh, oh my name is Dream… and I’m a Psi kid, just like you guys!” 

George rolled his eyes, “Yeah no shit sherlock.” Only when the Yellow grunted in disapproval did George relax his muscles slightly. He sighed, “Oh alright, fine. Sorry, It’s just been a really long day, I guess the adrenaline’s still pumping and we’re both tired as hell. I’m George by the way.”

“And I’m Sapnap.” Said the Yellow. He visibly winced as he tried to sit up. Blood from his leg now stained the living room floor. He frowned, “Looks like the wound opened up again.”

“Here, let me.” I hurried to the back of the kitchen, and came back with a wet towel, a pail of water, some bandages, and antiseptic. Kneeling down next to Sapnap, I rolled up the pants on his left leg and began treating his wound. Dad had taught me some basic first-aid when I went into hiding, in case anything bad happened.

“Thanks.” said Sapnap, he flinched as I washed his wound, but didn’t complain. The gash was located on the lower half of his leg. It was red and raw, with a mixture of pus and blood dripping down the side. It looked very recent. Scrunching my nose, I continued working to fix him up.

“What are you doing here, Dream?” George asked, with a hint of suspicion in his voice. “Were you from a camp? Did you escape as well?”

“No I didn’t escape from a camp.” I replied. I tossed around the idea of being entirely truthful before eventually just deciding to go with it. “My Dad’s a PSF. Basically he got the government to think that I had died, and I’ve just been living here in hiding for the past few years.”

George scoffed, “Lucky you.”

I paused, the wound was now mostly cleaned up. The blood was all gone and the flesh underneath just looked raw. I began gently rubbing antiseptic onto it. “Did you guys escape from a camp? How’s that even possible?” 

“Oh it’s definitely possible. But they sure as hell try to make you think it’s not.” Sapnap stretched his arms overhead. “We escaped from Greengrove, a camp a few miles up north. The Psi kids there all simultaneously started a breakout attempt a few days ago. It was chaos. But I guess chaos worked in our favour.” 

He sighed. “Still, many didn't make it out. A lot of them were shot down by PSFs. That’s how my leg got injured, a bullet must have grazed it. Disgusting bastards had been using real guns instead of tranquilizers. George and I are two of the few that managed to escape. We have no idea what happened to the rest of them.”

“I’m sure they're safe.” George reassured him. Sapnap slowly nodded. But I’m sure deep down, both of them knew the truth. In the world we live in now, no kid was safe. Not for long anyways.

“There, you’re done.” I said, wrapping up the final bandages around his leg. Sapnap murmured a thanks. “You guys look filthy by the way. There’s a small bathroom at the back of the kitchen where you guys can wash up. I’ll go get some of my clean clothes.” I said, getting up and turning towards the stairs.”

“Wait, Dream.” Hearing George call out, I stopped and swivelled around. 

“Well, sorry for being so aggressive when you were only trying to help. It’s just… when you’re in <i>there</i> for so long you start to forget that not everyone else in the world is against you.” He shook his head. “Anyways… no hard feelings right?”

I paused, staring at him for a moment. “No hard feelings.” I repeated. George smiled sheepishly.

“Anyways, since you obviously know both of our’s, what’s your colour?” Sapnap asked, giving a nervous laugh. “I figured we should know in advance. Just in case you start bursting into flames in the middle of the night, y’know?”

Even though he was obviously just joking, I flinched. No, I wasn’t a Red. I was something much more dangerous than that.

These two are the only other kids I’ve interacted with for the last 3 years. As much as I want to trust them, and as much as I want them to trust me, I just...don’t want to scare them away.

“I’m Green.” I said stiffly, gut tightening in guilt. “I’m Green, like you George.”

**[** **_24 October 2029, The United States, West Virginia]_ **

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

I was jolted awake by the sound of smashing glass coming from the first floor. Immediately, I knew that something was wrong. Scrambling off my bed, I grabbed a baseball bat from the corner of my room, before quietly opening my bedroom door, and creeping down the hallway outside.

George and Sapnap had decided the day before that they would take shelter in my house for the time being, at least until Sapnap’s leg got better. Sapnap couldn’t climb the stairs because of his injury, so he had to sleep on the couch in the living room. And George had insisted on not leaving him alone. So that’s where they both slept last night, on the first floor.

_T_ he _first floor, where the crashing sound had come from._

With my heart drumming against my chest, I crouched down by the top of the staircase which led down to the living room, such that the top of my head couldn’t be seen from down there. From here, I could hear footsteps pattering across the living room floor, there were definitely more than two pairs of feet down there. _Someone had broken into my house._

Slowly, I raised myself up from the crouching position and allowed myself a peak over the railing. What I saw made my heart sink in horror. 

George and Sapnap were both kneeling with their hands over their heads, eyes lowered towards the ground. Surrounding them were 4 PSFs dressed in their signature black uniform, with guns trailed on the boys’ backs.

I wanted to slap myself for being so stupid. _They_ _ must have been on high alert after the breakout at one of the camps. They must have been closely monitoring this area. They had been watching when George and Sapnap entered the house. _

“Are these two of them?” A PSF asked, reaching upwards to wipe sweat off his forehead.

“Yup, I recognise their faces.” A female PSF sneered. “Brats really thought they could get away for long.” She kicked at Sapnap, smirking when he cried out and curled over in pain. My stomach churned in anger, she had deliberately aimed for his injury.

“Alright, time to get these 2 back to camp, yeah?” Another male PSF asked. I jumped when I recognised his voice. _Dad_.

Immediately, a wave of relief washed over me. Dad was here, he’ll get things sorted out, he’ll keep them safe. Everything will be fine. He always makes things okay.

“Back to _camp_!?” The female PSF scoffed. “Are you crazy? We’ve been assigned to a post all the way down to the other side of the country. I’m not going back to camp to send these two brats back, just to come all the way back here again. They gave us enough trouble making us look for them already.” Sapnap began to whimper in pain on the ground, which earned him another kick from the PSF.

She shook her head. “Might as well just get it over with and kill them right here, tell the Camp Controllers that they resisted capture and became violent. No one will miss a Green & a Yellow anyways.” 

Upon hearing her words, George, Sapnap & Dad all visibly tensed up. Blood began pounding hard against my skull. _She was going to kill them? For doing nothing? I can’t let them die. I can’t-_

“That-that’s against the rules. Killing an innocent Green & Yellow? You’ll be punished for this!” Dad spluttered, desperation lacing his voice.

The female PSF rolled her eyes, “Oh, quit being such a do-goody.” With that she raised her rifle and took aim at Sapnap’s head. I squeezed my eyes shut. _I’m weak. I can’t do anything to save him._

Bang. A body hit the ground with a thud.

Slowly, I lifted my eyelids open, and my jaw dropped. For the person who had collapsed wasn’t Sapnap, but the female PSF. Dad’s gun was still pointed at her head, a defiant expression played on his face. _He had shot her._

“You. Don’t. Kill. Innocent kids.” He growled. But she couldn’t hear him, she was already dead.

Taking advantage of this turn of events, I raced down the stairs with adrenaline coursing through my veins. Holding the bat up high, I brought it down hard onto the skull of the first PSF. He grunted and fell to the ground, out cold.

Wincing in pain, Sapnap grabbed on to the ankle of the last PSF with his bare hand, who was still frozen in shock. Sounds of static filled the air as sparks flew off from his hand. The PSF let out a gasp and convulsed onto the floor. After a moment, he went still.

And like that, it all ended just as quickly as it had started. For a few moments silence filled the air, only interrupted with the sounds of panting. My hands were still trembling. _Had we done it? Is it over?_

“You’re Dream’s dad, I assume?’ Asked George, pushing himself to his feet. Dad nodded. “I figured, could see the resemblance between the two of you.” He went over to help Sapnap onto the couch. Sapnap looked terrible, his skin was pale and shiny with sweat, and red was seeping through his bandages. The wound had split open again.

“Gotta get that cleaned up.” Dad frowned at Sapnap’s leg. “Anyways, are you kids alrig-”

Bang. Another gunshot.

Dad collapsed onto the ground. 

I whipped around, there crawling back to his feet, was the PSF that I had knocked out. A sly smile played across his lips, his gun was trailed on my face.  My muscles tensed, my bat was lying on the ground a few feet away. George was frozen to the spot in fear, and Sapnap was in no condition to fight. We were defenceless.

“You kids really thought you’d won, even got one of our own to betray us.” The PSF let out a laugh, he sounded insane. “Well, time to say goodbye now.” He tensed up to fire.

Instinctively, I leapt forward, my hand wrapped around his wrist. I stared straight into his eyes, and felt something start to tingle somewhere behind my temples. He froze, and his eyes glossed over. My jaw quivered as is opened up, but when I spoke, a cold & authoritative tone had crept into my voice. It sounded so unlike me that I almost didn't recognise myself. 

“Die.”

He nodded eagerly like a puppy. Then without any hesitation, he raised his gun to his head and pulled the trigger. Bang. He dropped dead onto the ground.

I let out a shaky breath of air. I could almost feel George and Sapnap’s eyes boring into my back. _Well... I’ve got some explaining to do._

Rasping sounds filled the air. I came to my senses and rushed to Dad’s side. I grasped on to his hard so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Blood was seeping out from his stomach. And with one look, I knew that he couldn’t be saved. No amount of antiseptic or bandages could fix a shot to the gut.

“No.. Dad, please don’t go…” I whimpered. I realised that warm tears were pouring down my cheeks. How pathetic. I’m not even the one at death’s door and yet I’m here weeping like a baby. Out of respect, George and Sapnap remained silent in the background.

Dad smiled feebly. “Dream… remember that I love you and that-” He started to cough violently, drops of blood splattered out of his mouth. “-that no matter what anyone tells you, or makes you feel. You are not weak, you kids aren’t weak. I mean, look at you, you didn’t need me to save your butts this time.”

He let out a weak laugh, which eventually evolved into more wet coughs. I flinched. When he eventually calmed down, the air was still.

“I’m… so sorry you weren’t able to grow up in the world you deserved-” With that his eyes shut, and his grip relaxed.

He was gone.

**[** **_11 November 2029, The United States, Virginia]_ **

* * *

**_| Tommy’s POV |_ **

Like any other day, I was awakened by the shrill alarm from the speaker which was placed at the corner of our cabin. I groaned and forced myself up. Around me I could see the rest of the cabin stirring to life, with the rest of the Blue boys stretching or rubbing sleep from their eyes. Wilbur’s legs were dangling down from the bunk bed above mine. I looked up, he gave a small smile. 

Wilbur and I had both been assigned to Cabin 56 in Thurmond, along with the other Blue boys that had been on the same bus ride as us. There wasn’t much chatter in the morning. Well, we weren’t actually allowed to speak at all in the presence of PSFs at all. That was one of the rules here at Thurmond. Another major one included no usage of our abilities, whether voluntary or involuntary. The Camp Controllers implemented those rules with an iron fist.

The electromagnetic door of our cabin began to beep, signalling to us that it was about to open. I quickly hopped off the bed and took my place in line, Wilbur stood behind me. The heavy metal swung open and a PSF stepped inside. 

His eyes swept over us. The blinding light from the clear sky shone into our cabin like a spotlight. I blinked my eyes against it, fighting the urge to hold up a hand to shield them as the PSF inspects first our uniforms and, next, the general state of the cabin. Instead of a word, he whistled and waved us forward. As if he was calling a dog to his side.

Our line moved forward into the cool November air. Today, we were fortunate enough that breakfast was implemented into our schedule before work in the Factory. Some days, we would have to go hungry in the morning, being forced to work up until they finally fed us during lunch.

When I first arrived at Thurmond, things were different. The only things that filled our days were eat, and sleep. But after around a year of my stay here, the PSFs began growing bitter with how they had to do _everything_ for us. So we were forced to grow and cook our own food, make our own clothes. And eventually, we were forced to make theirs. 

It’s free labour, **and** it tired us out and dampened our spirits. It’s a win-win for them.

As we neared the Mess Hall, I could sense that something was amiss. The atmosphere around us grew warmer, and bits of black soot were flying past. Eventually, shouts could be heard from somewhere afar. Some Blue Boys ahead of me pointed upwards. I followed their gestures and looked up.

Dark grey clouds of smoke filled the sky. Off in the distance, the Mess Hall was engulfed in orange and yellow flames, illuminating the scorched ground in a golden light as the smell of burning filled the air. The Mess hall was on fire.

Atop the roof of the Mess Hall, stood 6 figures with flames flickering and dancing across their arms, yet they weren’t being burnt to a crisp. _Reds._

There they stood, hollering and hooting with glee. And at the head of the group, with his brown hair flying wildly in the wind, his mouth open with an almost maniacal laugh, was Tubbo.

My eyes widened, and I had to resist the urge to rush forward towards him. I hadn’t seen my friend in 4 years.

Tubbo raised a fiery fist up high above his head, his eyes shone bright with pride and delight.

“We aren’t your animals, we aren’t your slaves,” His voice rang clearly through the air. “We are humans! We deserve to be free!”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading <3 
> 
> Leave a comment telling me what you liked or disliked about this chapter, I'm always looking for constructive criticism!
> 
> Anyways, I'm going to be a bit busy for the next few days, so updates will be a bit slow. Sooo, you guys will have to deal with this cliff-hanger for a while :>

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I did rng last names for Tubbo & Tommy xD
> 
> I'm sorry for the freakishly long chapter, I promise that following chapters will be shorter.
> 
> This fic will be mostly from Tommy's (and later Dream's) POV  
> I will try to include other POVs though when it fits the story :)
> 
> This is my first fic in this fandom, whether I continue on with this story depends entirely on how willing I am to continue, as well as how much my readers would like more.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed, Thanks so much for reading <3


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